


Fight! Fight! Fight!

by engine



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Crack, Gen, but not violence against squirrels, squirrel violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17188529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engine/pseuds/engine
Summary: Mike, Tom, and a squirrel in their apartment.





	Fight! Fight! Fight!

**Author's Note:**

> i have no explanation for this. originally posted on tumblr.

Mike is not hiding behind Tom. He’s _not_. 

“Dude, are you hiding?” Tom asks, peering over his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Mike snaps, kicking Tom’s ankle. “I fucking hate squirrels.”

From the ceiling fan, the squirrel makes angry barking noises. Mike flinches. There are only a few things Mike learned to hate—or, truthfully, fear—growing up in the country outside Kitchener. Aside from the standard terrifying moose horror stories, three smaller animals top that list: chickens, raccoons, and squirrels. 

“It’s like the size of my _hand_ ,” Tom says, clearly trying not to laugh. “What’s it gonna do?”

The squirrel hops to another one of the fan blades, making the whole thing rock.

“If you wanna get it out, be my guest.” Mike takes a few steps back, aware that he sounds ridiculous. He’s seen the damage squirrels can do, though. They’re _evil_. 

Tom rolls his eyes and grabs one of the chairs they have floating around the ping-pong table. “Don’t worry, Latts, I’ll save you,” he says, deadpan, climbing onto the chair once he has it under the fan. The squirrel eyes him warily from where it’s clinging to the fan blade, and Mike suddenly knows this is going to end so, so badly. 

“C’mon little dude,” Tom says, reaching slowly towards the squirrel. “It’s way better outside than in here.”

It happens too quickly for Mike to follow: one second the squirrel’s on the fan, and the next it’s hopping onto Tom’s arm and then straight onto his head, grabbing onto his hair with its tiny, evil hands.

“Holy _shit_!” Tom screeches, stumbling and nearly falling off the chair. He manages to keep his balance, which Mike is grateful for, because trying to explain an injury sustained while attempting to capture a rogue squirrel would not be fun. “Holy shit, it’s _on my head_!”

“Jesus Christ, Willy, you’re gonna fall!” Mike holds out his arms, sort of trying to help, but he doesn’t really want to get much closer.

“Get it _off me_!” Tom’s voice is distressingly high pitched, but he’s at least stopped moving, frozen with his arms raised halfway up. The squirrel’s screaming too, angry chatters as it tugs on Tom’s hair.

“ _How_?” Mike isn’t touching that thing. No fucking way. “Dude, what if it has rabies?”

Tom makes a strangled noise, and Mike’s pretty sure Tom’s trying to kill him with his eyes.

“Okay, okay! I’m gonna call Backy! Just, like, don’t move,” Mike says, holding his hands up and taking a couple steps backwards before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Backy will totally know what to do.


End file.
